The way they are
by starbuckx
Summary: Booth on Brennan. Brennan on Booth. An introspective look at their relationship, and the way they are.
1. Temptation

**Story title: The way they are**

**Part 1/?**

**Disclaimer: No, they're not mine. Doesn't mean I don't want Booth/David/Angel ...I'll take any form of him you can come up with. innocent smile ****No infringement is intended, and I'm not making any money out of this.**

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01. Temptation 

_A cause or occasion of enticement._

She is temptation.

There is an open invitation in the way she moves, slowly, gracefully, and yet with purpose. Never let it be said that Temperance Brennan moves just for the pleasure of motion. She moves because it's needed, because it serves the principle of communication and because she needs things, and in order for her to get them, movement is needed.

She has no idea that every step is temptation; every movement adds to the enigma that lures him one step closer, forces him to forego things like personal space, and just reach out and touch her, for some reason, for any reason at all. More often than not he isn't even aware that he's invading her personal space, can't control his hands until they've reached out and touched her, and when they finally do he's left to regroup while she goes on, oblivious to his lack of control.

Her appeal is enhanced by her words, such a complete chaos of disorganized ideas and faux pas that sometimes he just wants to make her shut up, and in those particular moments, he can only think of one particular way he'd like to do it.

Let it not be said that he notices only her movements, though. He notices everything, from the way she bites her lips when she's reached a particularly challenging spot in her writing, to the subtle rolling of her wrists when she's tired. He notices everything, even when he doesn't want to notice, doesn't want the burden of being the one that understands her. But he always does, sometimes in spite of himself.

A sparkle in her eyes means that she's excited about something, and although that something usually involves bones and words that only Zack seems to be able to decipher, that twinkle is temptation, and he often wonders about the million things he could try to put that twinkle in her eyes. He always comes up short, maybe because he doesn't really want to figure out, he just loves the fantasy.

High-pitched comes only when she's annoyed, and her voice looses some of that smooth sweetness she uses in normal speech, and as much as he loves her voice, the prime example that she isn't what she pretends to be, sometimes the shrill tone makes his mind wonder about all the other ways her voice could vary, and he's usually left without a proper response to her comments.

With Temperance, it's not a little something; it's not as simple as flicking hair back, or pouting lips. It's a firm movement, a politically incorrect statement, or just a smudge of excitement or annoyance coloring her actions.

She is temptation, all the time. And, as much as he hates it, he often wishes he could tell her, and sometimes even goes as far as wondering what would happen if he showed her.

But he doesn't. He won't. And, she doesn't notice, she doesn't know. And, she never will.

_To be continued ..._

_A/N: The first in the 'Way they are' series, this is certainly going to continue for a while. I intend to do many more little pieces, some about her, and some about him. I'll get creative, and maybe try some about both. This is called 'The Way they are', after all! This is my first Bones fanfic, so comments are appreciated. And, if anyone has a particular word they'd like to see used in the series ...well, go ahead and suggest! I might agree. :)_


	2. Passion

**Story title: The way they are**

**Part 2/?**

**Disclaimer: No, they're not mine. Doesn't mean I don't want Booth/David/Angel ...I'll take any form of him you can come up with. :p ****No infringement is intended, and I'm not making any money out of this.**

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31. Passion 

_Intense, driving, or overmastering feeling or conviction_

He is passion, in everything he does.

There is a certain odd enthusiasm to every new case, an undercurrent of the kind of passion you'd expect to see displayed in a more romantic setting, and yet there it is, in plain sight for everyone to see. The thing with Booth, she's decided, is that he doesn't seem content with doing things half-way. Either he's all in, or he's out.

He's usually all in. Passionate can sometimes mean stubborn, obnoxious and obtuse, but it can also help solve crimes. Most of the time he's a little too confident, a little too sensitive, a little too open, but loath as she was to admit it at first, it works for him.

Anthropologically speaking, it makes no sense. Self-preservation should kick in. His first instinct should be to protect himself, isolate his emotions. It's what he should do. It's what they both should do. It's what she tries to do.

Yet, at times, he even manages to influence her, drag her into his web of emotions, and she becomes this woman she hardly recognizes. She isn't sure she dislikes the woman she sees herself becoming sometimes, but one thing she is sure of is that she doesn't know how to deal with her.

She's seen it with Parker too. Granted, she hasn't seen much of them, just a few glimpses here and there, but from that and a few phone conversations she's overheard when he thinks she isn't paying attention, she's gathered enough. It's not that he would give up his life for the little boy, and she doesn't doubt that he would, it's that he would give up his time. She doesn't fully understand why taking a kid to a baseball game would take precedence over well-earned sleep, or a much-needed drink after a particularly hard case, and she doesn't think she ever will.

She is less likely to ever understand why that simple baseball game would be treated with such reverence, create such joy. She can understand duty, but when she looks into his eyes, she doesn't see an obligation; she sees passion.

Even in his choice of food there is a trace of passion, for he doesn't eat, he savors food. And not the silly 'stare into the abyss as he chews' kind of savor, no, the full-blown 'look at you while his eyes roll and little noises escape his lips' type that makes her a bit weak in the knees.

It's in those moments that she wonders what it would be like to be the sole recipient of that passion.

But she never lets that thought go any further. Sure, he can be passionate about his work, his kid, his life. He can be passionate about his commitment to their partnership. Hell, he can even be passionate about his eating choices.

But she never lets herself consider how passionate he could be about other things.

A passionate _lover_ is a thought she will admit to herself, but then again Temperance isn't strange to lust, doesn't bother to deny what's merely human nature. She finds Booth attractive; she's known this for a while now. That doesn't affect their working relationship – it doesn't have to.

What she won't ever let herself consider is the possibility that a man who puts so much passion into the simplest things could love just as passionately as he lives.

_To be continued ..._

_A/N: And we change POV's with this one. I've got a little plan of mixing it up, maybe one Brennan, one Booth. I'm very sorry this took so long, blame the 'cold' of DEATH. I should post at least one, if not two a week, if all goes well. Thank you very much to and who took the time to review. Shame on the rest of you ...I can see the hit count. So where are my reviews? pouts It may sound cliche but reviews DO make authors work faster._


	3. Fragile

**Story title: The way they are**

**Part 3/?**

**Disclaimer: No, they're not mine. Doesn't mean I don't want Booth/David/Angel ...I'll take any form of him you can come up with. No infringement is intended, and I'm not making any money out of this.**

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021. Fragile

_Easily broken or destroyed_

She's fragile, even if she won't admit it.

It doesn't take him completely by surprise, when he finally realizes it. It's basic psychology, someone as cautious with her emotions as she is must be hiding inside some serious vulnerability. He'd always suspected it. But, it still manages to catch him off guard when he finally comes face to face with the truth of her vulnerability. As they say, suspecting is different than knowing.

The tears startle him, because they go against his preconceived notions of her. How simple, human problems can cause a breakdown, albeit small, while traumatic experiences that would have any normal human being at the brink of a panic attack merely pass without repercussions used to baffle him, until he understood the inherent protective instinct that guides her actions.

Simple, human trouble is exactly what she isn't used to. Maybe that's why she doesn't know how to handle it, and sometimes, not always, but sometimes, her emotions will get the best of her. It's only natural. Human beings are creatures of habit, she would say. They are better equipped to respond to familiar situations.

But deep emotional pain, the kind that slowly gnaws at your insides while you go on pretending everything is all right, is what she knows how to handle. She's done it for so long it's become second nature to her. It's like a reflex, for he is sure she doesn't even realize how odd her reactions are, and if she did she wouldn't dwell on it. She wants no part of psychology, after all.

She's not fragile, not in her eyes. She can shoot a gun, and she does martial arts, and she feels strong. It's an elaborate deceit, one she's part of. Nothing about her says weak, and that's the way she likes it. Dr. Temperance Brennan doesn't show weakness. If you were to ask, you'd be hard pressed to find anyone who'd describe her as fragile.

But she is.

You can see it in the way her eyes soften every time she's faced with the human side of bones, with the real story. It's in the way she connected with that foster kid, and how she reacted so strongly to the girl's beauty pageants. He knew it way before she trembled in his arms as he pulled her out from the ground.

It's even obvious in the way she has refused to talk about those hours, as if merely talking about them would mean reliving them. She's told him what happened, she's told all of them the bare facts of her imprisonment, and she's even lavished praise upon Hodgins for the ingenious thinking that led to the extension of their air-time.

But the closest she's gotten to an introspective look is her comment about being sure he wouldn't give up. As much as he appreciates the sentiment, and he does, he wishes she hadn't shared it with him, because when she did, she closed all the doors to that conversation, for good. She doesn't want to talk about it, because to her, if the tears aren't falling, then she's all right.

At times he wants to shake her, make her realize that the lack of tears and calm words are exactly what worry him. That she doesn't have to pretend, not for his sake. He can see right through her anyway.

But she's not ready. He might be able to see right through her, but she isn't ready yet.

She's delicate, and she doesn't see it, so she stands tall and faces life head on, with a reckless disregard that can only come from innocence, seemingly unperturbed by the fact that, as fragile as she is, life could shatter her.

He often wonders if she knows that he'll do anything to keep her from breaking.

_To be continued ... _

_A/N: Kendra, I have one more planned, and then I'll try with Hope. Good suggestion! Anyone else has any suggestions? I'm still willing to take a few, as long as I can work them into the whole idea of this series. _


	4. Paranoid

**Story title: The way they are**

**Part 4/?**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. But, alas ...I really, really want them, and Christmas is coming up, so? Eh ...no? Oh, okay. ****No infringement is intended, and I'm not making any money out of this.**

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037. Paranoid 

_Characterized by suspiciousness, persecutory trends, or megalomania_

He is paranoid, even though he will deny it.

Paranoia is a word often associated with people like Hodgins, conspiracy theories and wild goose chases. In that regard Hodgins clearly does the word credit, but that doesn't mean she doesn't consider Booth's particular brand of suspiciousness as paranoia.

It's not that he expects the worst from people; in fact, sometimes he's guilty of expecting too much. She's learned the hard way that when you don't expect good things you won't be disappointed when people inevitably mess up. It's a rule of life.

But he's extremely suspicious of everyone and everything new that approaches her, be it a man, a cat, or even a different dish she's decided to try out. It's endearing on occasion, when she's in the right mood to appreciate that he cares about her, and that's why he worries. Most days she just wants to strangle him.

She's no good at psychology, but sometimes she thinks it has to something to do with his time in the military. Constantly expect the worst is probably a good philosophy when you're a Ranger. Still, it amazes her how someone who can read people so easily can sometimes be so clueless about the most important things. This is usually when she starts thinking maybe he isn't clueless, maybe he realizes that given the choice between him and any of these people that make his overprotective streak flare, she'd choose him without a second thought.

But she readily dismisses that thought as soon as it comes to her head, convinced that not even Booth is that good at reading people, at reading _her_. It's all paranoia, and that's what makes him overprotective. She doesn't need him to protect her, and he knows it, but it won't stop him from trying.

She has many examples of his behavior, Michael, David, even the weird and highly inept coroner at the FBI whose name she never cared to learn. She thinks it should bother her, and it does make her seethe with anger when she recalls anthropology and the predominant male response to a perceived threat. Usually, she doesn't like to think of it that way, as strange as that sounds.

If it were any other man she'd pass off his attitude as lack of confidence in their relationship, as nothing more than jealousy. But this is Booth, and she can never connect anything he does to something as basic as that. Maybe it has more to do with her; she stares at the dead daily, and yet often pays attention to the living. Maybe it's just that, even when she's angry, she trusts his judgment.

Or maybe it's just that he's changed her, subtly, for she still appreciates her space and doesn't feel like a damsel in distress, even if she's been getting a lot of hugs lately. Maybe, after all this time, she's finally getting used to trusting someone, no questions asked.

She'll deny it if anyone asks, but she kinds of likes his kind of paranoia, especially when she's the recipient.

_To be continued ... _

_A/N: I've a holiday fic all but finished, and even though I started the next two in this series, I can't promise anything before Christmas, since I want to get the holiday fic posted. For now, I hope you enjoy this one. :) Oh, and Kendra ...Hope is indeed coming up next!  
_


	5. Belong

**Story title: The way they are**

**Part 5/?**

**Disclaimer: No, they're not mine. Doesn't mean I don't want Booth/David/Angel ...I'll take any form of him you can come up with. ****No infringement is intended, and I'm not making any money out of this.**

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047. Belong 

_To be suitable, appropriate, or advantageous_

There's a marked difference in the way they process things. As a rule she over-thinks, carefully considering implications and consequences before reaching the best decision possible, in accordance with the facts she's been given. He, on the other hand, is prone to impulsive decisions, based on things that cannot be measured, like instinct, and intuition.

Maybe that's why when it comes to their feelings it takes her a lot longer to put a name to what's happening to her. He feels something changing, and realizes what's going on without long contemplations or conclusive proof:

He is falling in love with her.

She feels the difference, notices the signs, and yet she doesn't understand what's different, can't put a name to the changes she sees in both of them. He's tenderer, she's more open. She thinks perhaps it's just the natural progression of their working relationship, and wonders if this is what trust does: change everything.

He is way in front of her, and yet he doesn't say anything. He understands the emotions going through them, sees the desperate need in her eyes to classify what she's feeling into something she can understand. So he takes a step back, leaves her alone to her revelation, and begins to take into consideration the implications of his own discovery.

He isn't sure he likes them.

For her, the implications are not something that comes separately from the thing itself. She's seen the proof, analyzed all the possible variables, and after a thorough study reached the only possible conclusion:

She's falling in love with him.

And the timing couldn't be worse.

Separately they reach the same conclusion. Being together now, admitting all the thoughts of _'love, comfort, passion …forever'_ that have suddenly come into their minds is not only impractical, it's dangerous. She could be in danger, he's realized. We could be forced to give up working together, she considers.

And so they go on, not acknowledging the feelings that are, somehow, clear to all that know them. He tries to deny it more fervently, because he feels, in a wholly irrational way that has nothing to do with reason, and everything to do with fear, that if he lets himself love her, and then looses her, he won't be able to deal.

She looks at him differently, and doesn't say anything, even if she thinks that the entire contents of her heart must be out in the open for him to see. It's been a while since she's been able to rejoice in the feeling of being loved, and so she closes her eyes and accepts the gift he's giving her, without asking for anything. Not now, not yet.

They both hide the truth, but it's as obvious for them, as it is for the rest of the world: they belong together.

_To be continued ... _


	6. Innocence

**Story title: The way they are**

**Part 6/?**

**Disclaimer: Can I have Booth? Be like Brennan? No? Dang it....*sighs* Oh yeah ...not mine. ****No infringement is intended, and I'm not making any money out of this.**

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06. Innocence

_Freedom from guile or cunning_

He looks into her eyes and sees innocence.

Sometimes he thinks she's the definition of innocence, and others he wonders at his own conclusions. She's seem too much of the world to be innocent, knows too much about death – and yet, for all her knowledge of the mysteries of the dead, she seems blissfully unaware of the intricacies of the living.

The world is still a new place for her.

Every day she deals with death – but for all her anthropological explanations, he can see with every new case that as long as they're dealing with bones she can understand it. Catalog it. If it has no face she can just process it alongside all the theoretical explanations she's learned.

But the cases they investigate, they all have a face, and she finds it hard to detach.

She deals with it every day, yes, but she doesn't understand it, doesn't expect it, doesn't understand the gruesome and often painful complexities of the human nature that lead to death. It doesn't mean that she doesn't try – she does. She puts herself out there, leaves herself vulnerable in her effort to see the world as others see it, to understand it the way he does.

He would never want her to. The price you need to pay for that understanding is too high.

And so he does his best to shield her from that knowledge, shield her from the pain of seeing the world as it is, from seeing that spark disappear from her eyes – from the understanding that comes from realizing that, at times, there are no better things out there, at times, there is just holding on to the person besides you, and hoping for a better tomorrow.

She's innocent, and day by day he fights a battle to keep her that way, despite death.

_To be continued_...

_A/N: And she LIVES! ::laughs:: It's been a LONG time since I've touched this story, but alas, inspiration seems to have returned. So, here we go again._


	7. Hope

**Story title: The way they are**

**Part 6/?**

**Disclaimer: Can I have Booth? Be like Brennan? No? Dang it....*sighs* Oh yeah ...not mine. ****No infringement is intended, and I'm not making any money out of this.**

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28. Hope

_To desire with expectation of obtainment_

To her, he is hope.

She isn't used to expecting good things from life. In her experience, when you expect good things, life hardly ever delivers. It's much more sensible to expect the worst, because that way, you're always prepared when life deals you a shitty hand. It's been her approach for many years, and she's used to it, has come to depend on it.

He, on the other hand, is always filled with optimism, despite all the awful things he's seen and done. He wears his heart on his sleeve, and she often worries about it being trampled by the many hardships they encounter along the way. But nothing seems to faze him, and he always emerges from difficulties with his heart on his sleeve, and hope shinning bright in his eyes.

She wonders if it has something to do with bringing a child to this world that makes you an eternal optimist, mostly, because you have to be. If you can't believe you've brought your child into a world where he'll find something other than pain, then what's the point of bringing it into the world in the first place.

That's where they differ, she thinks. She sees that there are more bad things in this world than good – can't stare at life through rose-colored glasses and try to paint everything in a favorable light just because some things, like friendship, she's discovered lately, are worth fighting for. It doesn't mean the rest of the world is worth it.

And, yet he seems to think it does. To her hope is an isolated thing, she can have hope in people and place her expectations on certain things, but to him, hope is an encompassing sentiment. He cannot be hopeful just about certain things, no. He is just hopeful.

She realizes, one day, after a particularly hard case, as she sits next to him, her head resting against his shoulder as he stares ahead, saying nothing, that the spark she sees in his eyes isn't one of hope for the world. He sees the world as a better place than she does, but that spark doesn't have a thing to do with the world, and a lot to do with her.

He has hope that one day, she'll see things the way he does.

She isn't ready to admit it, not out loud, anyway, but she suspects he'll see right through her with just one look if she raises her head in this particular moment. Instead, she holds onto him more tightly, and closes her eyes firmly, because she might be many things, but brave doesn't feel like one of them at the time. And, when his hands cover hers she let's out a deep breath and opens up her heart to the knowledge that to her, he is hope.

Hope of a better today, hope of a clearer yesterday, and sometimes, when they're just sitting side by side in silence after a case, like today, she lets herself consider the hope of a happy tomorrow.

_To be continued ..._


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